


Humming

by Skyzuki



Category: Starfighter (Comic), Starfighter Eclipse
Genre: Denial of Feelings, Developing Relationship, M/M, Nightmares, Sharing a Bed, Sleepy bois
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2019-03-01 23:39:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13305783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyzuki/pseuds/Skyzuki
Summary: He needs to run, needs to pace the ship’s halls, needs to get into a fight.He can’t.Abel’s body slumped halfway across his own.





	Humming

Their room smells like recycled air, lingering nicotine, and sweat. It’s too hot; even under the paper thin, alliance-issued sheet. The ship’s engine is emitting a constant, one-note hum.

Cain’s veins are itching for a cigarette, the hum is slowly driving him mad, and he’s staring blankly at the ceiling.

They both need to be awake for training in two hours and he hasn’t slept a wink.

He needs to run, needs to pace the ship’s halls, needs to get into a fight.

He can’t.

Abel’s body slumped halfway across his own.

He’s drooling onto Cain’s chest, snoring ever so faintly.

He usually doesn’t cling like this. In fact, he complains about Cain’s “ _thrashing_ ” in the middle of the night and opts to put as much space between them as possible.

Cain isn’t used to being pinned like this, and certainly isn’t used to the idea of putting his bedmate’s comfort before his own.

If he were to move in the slightest, Abel would be wide awake and unable to salvage his remaining hour-and-forty-five-minutes-or-so of sleep.

_Spoiled little shit._

Cain lets out a silent groan, head thumping back against the pillow _(which is also paper thin and unsupportive as all fuck)._

A soft sound interrupts Cain’s concentration on the engine humming.

A tiny, weak thing. A little whimper that could just be a breath.

It isn’t a breath, though, and it happens again.

He dares to reposition himself just enough to peek at Abel’s face.

His eyelids are twitching with movement, nose crinkled, brows furrowed.

_He’s dreaming, he’s fine._

Another sound, louder this time.

_Its fine._

Cain really tries to refocus on the engine.

  _You’re fighting a war, you don’t cuddle him after a bad dream._

The whimpers come with every exhale, now. Progressively getting louder and more urgent.

_He might not be having a nightmare. He makes those noises when he’s enjoying himself, too._

He smirks, and starts counting the vent-holes in the ceiling to occupy himself.

He’s up to two hundred and thirty-six when Abel falls silent again.

_Thank fuck._

Cain glances over at the clock. They have roughly ninety minutes of rest cycle left.

He closes his eyes, determined. He knows that Abel will be pissed if he finds out that his fighter stayed up all night.

_It’s his fault, though. Brat._

He’s almost, almost drifted off when a single syllable that sounds like _“no”_ cuts through the relative silence.

Abel sits up stock straight, then. The crown of his head knocks into Cain’s jaw on the way.

Cain is about to yell at him, but what would he even say?

_“You fell asleep on me and I was too much of a pussy to push you off”?_

Abel is breathing heavy, pupils blown. Before Cain can react, his navigator has both hands on either side of his face. Like he’s checking that Cain is solid, that he’s still there.

His hands are ice cold, clammy, pale like the rest of him. They’re soft and uncalloused, truly the hands of a spoiled, earthborn virgin who’d never worked a day in his life.

_Stop thinking about the details of his hands right now, weirdo._

“Sorry.”

Abel finally whispers after they’ve sat in silence for a substantially awkward amount of time. Though his hands are still there even as he apologizes, eyes still wide.  

“Is there a reason you’re squishing me?”

His voice comes out sharper than he wanted it to.

Abel pulls away immediately after the question is asked, suddenly looking more sheepish than terrified.

“Just a dream.”

He glances at the clock.

“No point in going back to sleep now, I guess. Sorry for waking you.”

Cain doesn’t tell him that he’s been awake all night, even though he’d love to. Now just doesn’t seem the time to make Abel worry for his fighter’s health.

He’s uncomfortable suddenly, with Abel’s eyes still scanning him as though he’ll disappear any second. He kicks the sheet from his legs, throws some pants on.

“I’m gonna go have a smoke.”

Abel stiffens like he’s going to say something important.  

_You’re projecting, he just wants to nag you about it._

“Alright. I’ll be here.”

He wants to say more, Cain can tell.  

Before he can, Cain grabs his bag and nods a goodbye.

He listens to the engine’s hum, watches the galaxy float past.

 


End file.
